Whispers (Argent Springs) (19 page)

BOOK: Whispers (Argent Springs)
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“I hate to butt in, but I was hoping to employ
Erin’s massage services. I have a couple of muscles that could really use her
magic hands.” He couldn’t think of another plausible reason to steal her away
from her newfound friends even though his back was much better.

Erin’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline as the
snowboarders’ grins grew wider.

“We didn’t know you had those services available,”
the blond one nodded to his buddy as though he’d just received an
insider-trading tip.

“My niece hasn’t formally set up shop, yet, but
I’m sure she could be convinced,” Annabelle added. “What’s the going rate, love?
One hundred dollars an hour?”

“Um, yeah,” Erin said, glancing from Annabelle to
the snowboarders to him.

Fuck. The last thing he wanted was Erin in a room
with one of those guys.

“I can do it,” she said to Hans. “But I’ll need to
purchase more massage oil first. I’m sure I have enough for Rick’s massage, but
that’s probably it.”

Thank God.

Erin stood, and Rick watched both of the
snowboarders’ gazes drift to her ass, both smiling with appreciation. He caught
the blond one’s eye and sent a warning full of fire in his direction. The
dumbass was at least smart enough to look away.

She walked to where Annabelle sat and leaned down
to kiss her on her cheek.

“Good night, love.” Annabelle smiled at her. “I’m
so happy you’re here.”

“Good night. I love you, too.” She squeezed her
hand and walked away, catching his gaze and looking at him with concern.

“Is it still bothering you,” Erin asked when they
were clear of the room.

“Yeah. I can’t sleep. Are you sure you don’t
mind?”

“Not at all.”

He let her precede him up the stairs, his own gaze
outlining the lovely shape of her ass. At least he liked her for more than her
body, he rationalized.

Chapter Eighteen

 

Erin had to admit she was nervous, going back into
Rick’s bedroom and having him strip down again. After their
friend
dinner date, she’d escaped into the atrium with Annabelle, Joel, and Hans. She
knew she’d find some fun, and she wouldn’t have to worry about her one-sided
feelings for Rick surfacing and making things awkward. She’d planned on waiting
until he was asleep before she entered their shared room, and then she could
hide beneath the safety of her covers until morning appeared again. She could
definitely work with that plan for the next couple of days.

Except Rick had messed it up with his pleas for a
back rub. Even if she wasn’t aching to dig her fingers into all that masculine
flesh, she couldn’t deny him if she wanted to, knowing her touch could bring
him some relief.

She opened her portable table, trying and failing
miserably to not look at Rick as he undid the buttons on his dark shirt. Each
time his hands slipped to the next button, he exposed another inch of hardened
flesh. He caught her gaze as he removed his shirt and tossed it on his bed. She
blinked, unable to look away as he lowered his hands to the button on his jeans
and undid them.

“What made you decide to become a massage
therapist?” Rick asked, breaking the spell he’d cast over her.

She kept her focus on assembling the tools of her
trade. “I don’t know. I guess I like helping people.”

He approached her wearing nothing but a pair of
gray cotton boxer briefs. She tried to breathe, but only a whisper of air
passed through her constricted throat. God, he was beautiful.

“Do you want me to get on the table?” He nodded at
the padded surface covered with a white sheet.

“Um, yes.” She tried to force her brain into
motion. “I, uh, need to change out of these clothes so I don’t get oil on
them.”

“Good idea. You look so nice, and I’d feel bad if
you ruined them.” His gaze traveled the length of her, heating her beyond the
point of boiling.

She couldn’t answer and instead, grabbed the
t-shirt and jeans she’d brought with her purposely for massaging Annabelle’s
back and hurried out of the bedroom and into the bathroom to change.

Her hands shook as she undressed and changed into
her working clothes. She would make a fool of herself if she couldn’t get her
raging urges under control.

She waited a few more minutes until she calmed.
When she felt ready, she crossed the hall again and entered the bedroom,
closing the door behind her to protect Rick’s privacy in case anyone else
decided to go to bed.

Thankfully, he lay face down on the bed, and she
didn’t have to meet his gaze. If she could treat this like any other massage,
working professionally and efficiently, then she could make it through the next
hour.

The room crackled with silence as she turned on
one of the bedside lamps and turned off the overhead light. Subdued lighting
helped to relax her clients. She poured oil into her hands and rubbed them
together to warm it. “This might be a little cold.” She ran her hands down the
length of him, spreading the oil.

He inhaled in response.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “Just try to relax.”

He softened his body at her command.

She ran her fingers over his skin, noting that his
muscles were in much better condition than the first day she’d rubbed him. “Is
there any area that’s particularly bothering you?” she asked as she began to
work the lower quadrant of his left side.

“There,” he mumbled. “Both sides.”

She started out slow until his muscles responded
to her touch, growing more pliable. Then she dug in her thumbs in an effort to
reach the deeper muscles. As she manipulated his body, she studied him,
enjoying the way his trim waist stretched out into a strong back and wide
shoulders. Shoulders that she’d love to find herself cradled against.

“You have a scar.” She traced the white line
cutting across his lower back, resisting the urge to soothe it with her kiss.

“Ski accident,” he said in a strained tone.

“Am I hurting you?” she asked in response.

“No.” His answer came out short and curt.

Most people preferred to not talk while receiving
a massage, and even though she and Rick knew each other beyond their client and
therapist relationship, perhaps he was the same.

She kept quiet and focused on her work. Massaging
him was a pleasure beyond pleasures. In what other profession could she be
allowed to touch the body of the man who haunted her dreams and not be
questioned? She allowed her senses to connect with his, a warm current of
energy flowing between them, leaving her in an interesting state of heated need
and relaxation.

When she finished his back, she poured more oil
into her hands and began to work her way down his muscular arms, worshipping
him the only way she was allowed. The subdued power resting beneath her
fingertips made her ache for more. Touching him was amazing, but she yearned to
have him touch her in return.

She lifted his hand, using her thumb to massage
the center of his palm. He closed his hand around hers for a second, making her
heart jump, but then he released her. She continued with her work, waiting for
him to say something, but he didn’t.

“Can you roll over?” she asked in a lowered voice,
not wanting to disturb him too much.

He shifted on the bed until he was face up. His
expression stopped her in her tracks. Desire burned in his dark eyes, singeing
her with his gaze. She swallowed, not sure if she should continue.

“Close your eyes. It will help you to relax,” she
whispered. More than that, it would help her to finish.

She added more oil to her hands, assuming her
place above his head and began to massage the front of his shoulders and his
collarbone area. This time, he didn’t relax, and she glanced over him, her gaze
snagging on the rock hard length pressing against his briefs.

Oh god.

She inhaled, the pounding of her heart echoing the
pulsing at her core. She hadn’t meant to do that. As much as she wanted him,
she’d been trying to relax him, not excite him.

She continued massaging, unsure of what to do.

She should stop and walk away. But she couldn’t.
No, she wouldn’t.

He wanted her, no doubt, and she ached for him.

Her decision to persist with her unintended
seduction flushed potent power through her veins. If she pushed this, she knew he
wouldn’t refuse her. And, god, she wanted him.

It might not be smart. She might get hurt. Right
now, she didn’t care. He no longer had a girlfriend to keep them apart, and she
wanted the feel of his hard body against hers as they made love.

From the first moment on Annabelle’s steps when
she’d looked into his dark eyes, she’d wanted to know what he’d taste like,
what his arms would feel like around her. But the river of discord between them
seemed too wide to cross.

No longer.

She tried to keep her breathing even as she ran
her hands over his muscled pecs. Smooth skin stretched over iron, and she
caught herself touching him like she would a lover instead of a client. She
tried to stop, but couldn’t.

His eyes were open again, and her breaths grew
more erratic. She released his gaze as her hands traveled lower down his
abdomen. The six pack resting beneath her fingers tightened as she moved over
the sexy surface.

“Erin,” Rick whispered his warning. One she had no
intention of heeding.

“Shh…” She shook her head to dissuade him from
talking. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hands back against his
sides. “Let me have my fantasy.”

He widened his eyes, but didn’t move.

She poured more oil, rubbing her slick hands down
his powerful thighs. Every inch of him excited her, heated her beyond belief.
“Does this feel good?” she whispered.

“God, yes.”

Then that was that.

She started to lift her t-shirt, and then met his
gaze. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he said on a groan.

“Good, because I think we’re both wearing too many
clothes.”

Excitement flashed in his eyes as the edges of his
mouth curved in a grin.

Caution flipped to reckless abandon.

With slow movements, she tugged her shirt over her
head, reveling as his greedy gaze devoured her. His smile was gone, replaced by
a hunger that left her breathless. She inhaled, her breasts straining beneath
the black lace bra, her nipples hardening into diamonds that yearned to be
soothed.

She closed her eyes, running her palms across her
breasts, trying to temporarily pacify her need and buy her a little more time.

“You’re killing me,” he said with a rasp as he
tried to sit up.

She held up her hand. “Stay there. I’m not
finished with you yet.” She quickly undid her jeans, letting them drop to the
floor before she stepped out of them. This time, she avoided Rick’s gaze,
knowing she was close to giving in to his demands.

But she wanted this her way.

“Come here,” he commanded.

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

She approached the table, gazing at his swollen penis,
her core instantly liquid.

He studied her, potent desire simmering in his
expression.

She had a limited amount of time, and she knew it.

She ran her palm down the length of his hardness, relishing
in the barely masked power as he throbbed beneath her touch. Sharp sensations
needled her as she anticipated having him inside her. She wanted him so badly. She
locked eyes with him as she pulled his boxer briefs down his legs.

He was hot, velvety steel in her palm, and she
circled her fingers around him.

She lowered her head, gently taking him into her
mouth. He jerked in response.

“Fuck,” he whispered, sitting up.

She pulled back, letting her teeth graze him, and
suddenly his hands were in her hair, fisting and tugging.

He let her lick and tease him for several minutes
before he pulled her away. Fierce need blazed in his eyes, and she wondered if
she’d awakened the devil.

“I’m not done,” she whispered.

He didn’t answer as he swung his legs across the
bed and stood. She took a step back, but he grabbed her with powerful hands,
pulling her hard against his body as he backed her toward the bed.

They fell to the mattress, and she scrambled to
get her bearings so that she could continue her seduction. She was on her knees
before he hauled her back down, covering her body with his.

“This is my fantasy. You have to do what I want,”
she said, breathless. She lifted her hand to his face, her gaze melding with
his. Her fingers tingled as she slid them across his raspy jawline, watching
his desire-darkened eyes. She ran a fingertip across his bottom lip, soaking up
the feel of his soft mouth compared to the short whiskers growing right beneath
his bottom lip.

“Not any longer.” He claimed her mouth with an
intensity she didn’t think existed. “You’ve tortured me long enough. My turn.”

She buried her fingers in the short hair at the
back of his neck, holding onto him for dear life. “I want you so much,” she
whispered.

A rumble of need came from deep within his chest.
He had her bra and panties off within a matter of seconds, and she was suddenly
naked beneath him. He left her long enough to remove his underwear, leaving the
cool air to rush against her heated skin. She missed him instantly.

When he’d joined her in her nakedness, he rolled
toward her, his gaze devouring her inch by inch. He placed a hand on the inside
of her knee and slowly drew it up her body.

He stopped near her core, and she inhaled sharply
in anticipation of a more intimate touch. Lavender swirled through the cloud of
desire encompassing her.

Was Madame Rosa watching
?

Her errant thoughts were quickly stolen by Rick’s
touch. Instead of dipping inside her, he grazed the edges sending fierce
shivers through her before he continued upward.

He ran his fingertips lightly over her breasts,
increasing the already-impossible ache in her nipples. “If I didn’t need you so
bad, I could sit here for another hour just looking at you. You’re so
beautiful.” His gaze met hers, driving a spear of need deep within her heart.

If she heard that line everyday of her life, she’d
never tire of it. She licked her bottom lip, trying to bring moisture to her
parched mouth. “Make love with me, Rick.”

The momentary pause in their sexual frenzy ended
with her words.

He drew a puckered nipple in his mouth, and she gasped
at the sensations he drew from within her. She realized at that point, the one kiss
they’d shared a few days ago would never have been enough.

She needed to experience this man. All of him.
This would be one of those encounters she would remember throughout her life.
She was living life and would never regret it.

She slid her hands over his butt, and he tightened
in response. His ass was firm and muscular, and oh so delicious. He sucked harder
on her nipple, sending another rush of powerful sensations to her core. She
gripped him tighter, her nails digging into his hard flesh, and he responded by
releasing her nipple and claiming her mouth.

He paused long enough to retrieve a condom from
the nightstand next to his bed.

“You won’t regret this?” he asked as he pressed
her into the mattress and settled between her legs.

“Never.” She wrapped her legs around him, drawing
the solid length of him closer to her apex. He was so incredibly hard against
her, and she burned with an aching need that only he could soothe. She might
die if he didn’t take her soon.

He kissed her as though she’d given him the
greatest gift before he raised himself up on his arms. “I want to watch your
face when I take you.”

“Rick,” she whispered, her heartstrings suddenly
caught up in the sexual spell he wove.

BOOK: Whispers (Argent Springs)
4.33Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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